


Oneshots Collection

by pessimisticvirtuoso



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Don’t copy to another site, Ficlet, For right now anyway, Hurt, Oneshot collection, So far these are really short, Stangst, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Technically?, and of course this also means, because am I capable of writing anything else?, ill update the tags as i go along, just hurt, mullet stan, no comfort, researcher ford, the answer is no
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 07:49:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19719337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pessimisticvirtuoso/pseuds/pessimisticvirtuoso
Summary: A nifty little place to store the ficlets and oneshots that aren't substantial enough to post on their own.READ THE TAGS, FRIENDS!





	1. Quietus

**Author's Note:**

> It's been way too long since I've posted anything, so have this. 
> 
> I've been writing, I swear, but for various reasons some of the things I write won't be posted.

His brother was gone. Gone, gone, gone. For all the screaming and attempts to reactivate the portal looming before him, he had nothing to show. He just as well as killed his brother, the one person who still meant the world to him. He had fucked up his twin’s life already, but apparently, he couldn’t be satisfied with that. After ruining it, he also had to end it.

There was nothing left for him here.

This was a revelation that wasn’t foreign to him, and neither was the feeling that followed. A creeping sense of hopelessness and despair permeated through his shock and grabbed his heart with cold, bitter claws. It surrounded him, bringing him down to his knees on the dirty floor. To his shame yet imperceptible relief, tears welled in his eyes. After all he had been through, they were long overdue.

He let them fall, streaming down his face silently. He stared into nothing and everything at once, his mind racing yet strangely empty. The vision of his brother sinking into that swirling mass of blue was seared into his memory, much like the aching spot on his shoulder. All he could focus on was Ford’s face, his panicked voice pleading for help, despite them both knowing there was nothing to be done.

He didn’t know when he’d gotten out his pocket knife, and he hadn’t noticed when he had pressed it to his own neck. The sensation of a blade against his throat was one that he was depressingly familiar with, but this knowledge brought him no emotion. He was too used to feeling this way, too used to being this close to listening to himself and going through with it.

He pressed in, just enough to break the skin. A pearl of crimson welled up at the small cut, then rolled down his neck, eventually staining the dingy t-shirt he wore.

When they found him, they would think he was Ford until they recorded his fingerprint- and wouldn’t that be the punchline? The useless twin, mistaken for his brother even when he finally did something right by ridding the world of himself. It was bold of him to assume that anybody would ever find this room- who would bother with checking behind a bookshelf for a room? No, he would rot down here, in the very place he deserved. Underground, unfindable, and unidentifiable, left to stew in his own failures long after he was gone. 

An empty laugh echoed through the basement.


	2. Hesitate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to have it known that I am also unapologetic for the angst.

Crimson streaked the snow before him, and Ford swore that it was the most disgusting sight he ever laid eyes on. He felt absolutely sick.

It had been a moment’s decision. A twitch, a reflex, really. His index finger pulled the trigger before he could process it, and now his brother laid on the powdery ground, a crossbow lodged in his chest.

He knew, subconsciously, that he was crying, pleading, doing everything he could to make this right again, but the damage had already been done. His twin coughed, a deep, wet sound and Ford saw tiny flecks of red pepper the snow. Stan’s eyes met his, and his brother, his _little brother_ , grinned.

“S’okay,” he ground out, teeth stained with blood, “I think I prefer it this way.”

“Y-You can’t mean that,” the elder stuttered. Stan’s grin dropped, his face relaxing into a mask of despondency.

“‘ve been through a lot,” he muttered. “Preferred it was you.”


End file.
